


Love Like Thunder

by Sereiin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Erejean Week 2016, Fluff, Hints of reincarnation, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, cross-dressing, some homophobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereiin/pseuds/Sereiin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren and Jean are two hotheaded boys in love. They bicker a lot, but they love just as fierce.</p><p>Something thrown together for Erejean week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So it's a little late, but I threw this together _last_ minute for Erejean Week 2016 'cause there's not enough Erejean around. Enjoy, hopefully { @˘ꈊ˘@ }
> 
> Prompt 1//Aries

There a quite a few things Jean hates about Eren Jaeger.  
  
His loud and aggressive existence, for one. Yes, his entire existence as a whole. He’s brash and opinionated and just has to argue with Jean over _everything_. (He’s also the one that called Jean ‘Horseface’ in third grade and subsequently got the whole school in on it, but it’s not like Jean holds a grudge over something that happened _years_ ago, even if people _still do_ call him that to this day.)  
  
Perhaps the thing he most hates about Eren is the way he _can’t_ bring himself to hate him. Not truly. Because how could Jean hate someone so vibrant?  
  
And Eren was vibrant, not only in the striking color of his pretty--almost preternaturally pretty, Jean grudgingly admits--eyes, but in his overbearing disposition. Fiery, passionate, a whole lot more trouble than what he was probably worth, and Jean’s worst nightmare and biggest headache on a _good_ day…  
  
Though Jean would be lying if he said the best parts of his day weren’t when he was arguing with and/or throwing punches at--and more rarely, just hanging out with--Eren. That was their thing, their odd dynamic. They bickered left and right, but when it came down to it, they still had each other’s backs.  
  
They’d been... _kind of sorta_ friends (Jean refuses to say frenemies because that’s a term only thirteen year old girls use, and Jean’s fifteen and very much a boy for your information) since their big turnaround in fifth grade when they teamed up against a group of schoolyard bullies (let it be known that they absolutely _despised_ each other until then).  
  
And as _kind of_ _sorta_ friends who also shared a mutual friend group, whenever Eren threw a social gathering, Jean was pretty much expected to go. Even if parties weren’t his thing and big crowds gave him just the tiniest bit of anxiety.  
  
Tonight's crowd was decently sized seeing as it was Eren’s sweet 16 and Eren happened to be decently popular--God knows why.  
  
“Why are you sulking in this corner?” Marco asked Jean who _was_ for the record definitely sulking at a table in the corner of the room.  
  
“Eren insulted my dancing skills. ‘S’not my fault though, I’m usually very coordinated, but tonight the room is spinning. I think somebody spiked the punch and my bets are on Sasha and Connie.”  
  
Marco shook his head. “Nah, Sasha’s too busy attacking the buffet table. It was probably Ymir.”  
  
“Fucking Ymir…”  
  
“Y’know, Eren seems pretty down tonight,” Marco said.  
  
“Really? I hadn’t noticed. He’s well enough to still insult me,” Jean said.  
  
Marco sighed. “I’m being serious. He’s not even here right now, he went outside a few minutes ago. Maybe you should go talk to him,” he suggested.  
  
“Me? I’d probably only make things worse.”  
  
“Come on, I’ve seen you guys get along when you want to. In fact, I think you’re a lot alike.”  
  
Jean snorted. “That hotheaded asshole is my _complete_ opposite.”  
  
“I don’t know about that. I mean, _you_ can be hotheaded too, and very stubborn and also-”  
  
Jean held his hands up. “Whoa, I’m feeling kind of attacked right now.”  
  
“And you’re both Aries,” Marco said. “Practically textbook Aries.”  
  
“Air-ees?” Jean tried the word out on his tongue. “Is that an insult? What the fuck is a-”  
  
Marco rolled his eyes. “Your zodiac sign, numbskull.”  
  
“Oh. Like horoscopes and shit. You believe in that stuff?” Jean asked.  
  
“Astrology is amazing. You can find out a lot about yourself. For example, as an Aries, you are both courageous and confident-”  
  
“Hmm, I actually like this astrology thing. Keep going.”  
  
“And very determined and honest-”  
  
“That is _totally_ me,” Jean agreed.  
  
“But also stubborn and impulsive. Oh, and don’t forget aggressive and short-tempered.”  
  
Jean’s grin dropped. “I was wrong, astrology can go fuck itself.”  
  
Marco chuckled, “If you say so. But I still think you should talk to Eren.”  
  
“Fine. But only because you’re giving me that ‘do it or I’ll smack you’ look.”  
  
Marco smiled warmly. “I don’t know what look you’re talking about.”  
  
The air outside wasn’t so much breezy as it was humid, with the threat of rain lingering in the evening sky.  
  
Eren was looking up at the moon, tucked away in a mist of clouds. When he turned to look at Jean, the light caught his eyes in a way that in turn made Jean catch his breath.  
  
He could never think of a color to describe those eyes. Blue or green? With either the depths of the sea or the gleams like those from broken glass.  
  
“What are _you_ doing out here?” Eren asked.  
  
Jean raised an eyebrow. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

 “Just getting some air,” Eren murmured.  
  
“You seem down.”  
  
Eren scoffed, “how observant.”  
  
“Yeah well, Marco’s the one who said you seemed...sad.”  
  
Eren stared at him with narrowed, watery eyes. An odd mix of fiery and vulnerable. “And what if I fucking am, Jean?”  
  
“T-then that...sucks. It’s your birthday, after all. You shouldn’t be sad.” Jean scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, wondering if he should just go back inside before Eren got angry(er).  
  
But he didn’t want to leave him with that hurt expression on his face. “Um...did something happen?” Jean questioned.  
  
Eren sighed, stared at the sky again. “Not really. Mikasa...she made cookies for my birthday. She used my mom’s old recipe--y’know, the one you helped me try to duplicate before and we ended up blowing up the kitchen? And they were good, amazing even because Mikasa’s perfect at everything she does. But...they tasted almost exactly like my mom’s used to.” Eren shook his head. “No, they probably tasted _exactly_ alike. But I’m not gonna admit that ‘cause only my mom ever could’ve made ‘em perfect, ya know?”  
  
Jean nodded mutely.  
  
“And I know she’s been gone for almost...six-- _fuck_ \--years now, but after that I-I guess I couldn’t help but think about her.” Eren wiped discreetly at a bit of wetness on his cheek like he didn’t want Jean to notice he was crying. “and then I started thinking about my fucking _father_ ,” he spat the word like a curse, “so now I’m sad _and_ bitter.”  
  
“Oh. That’s-”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jean.”  
  
“Alright. Do you...wanna go back inside, then?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“So you’re just gonna stand here?”  
  
Eren just scowled.  
  
Jean sighed. “I guess that’s a yes then.”  
  
There was a somewhat comfortable silence for a few moments before Jean tried breaking it with whatever topic he could come up with that wasn’t about Eren’s woes. “So...you’re an Aries.”  
  
Eren almost snickered. “I guess. Didn’t think you were into astrology.”  
  
“I-I’m not! But Marco is and he said...well, he said some _very_ insulting things to me tonight. Going on about how I’m stubborn and impulsive and shit. I’m not any of that. _You_ on the other hand…”  
  
“I think you just don’t see yourself clearly, Jean. You’re the most stubbornest fuck I know,” Eren told him.  
  
Jean ‘tsked’ “Good, because you’re the most stubborn bastard _I_ know. But our similarities definitely end there.”

“Whatever you say. But I do agree on one thing, you’re not impulsive. You’re too lame to be impulsive--you’re always thinking too much...I mean yeah, you sometimes say some stupid shit before thinking too, but that just chalks down to you being a dumbass,” Eren said with thinly concealed amusement. Jean resented the teasing gleam in his eyes, but he’ll admit it was better than the sorrow hidden there before.  
  
“I’m not a dumbass, _dumbass_.” Jean was starting to get a bit riled up when Eren just continued to smirk at him. And he was definitely standing too close to him now and those stupid big eyes were doing that stupid sparkling thing...  
  
“Oh, but I thought you just said-”  
  
“Eren, shut the fuck up.”  
  
Eren’s breath hitched and he promptly shut up when Jean kissed him. Jean’s lips were sweet, almost gentle until Eren bit at his bottom lip and then suddenly it was harsh and fervid and years of feelings expressed between shared breaths and a sinuous intermingling of tongues.  
  
When they pulled away they were both out of breath. Jean stupidly admired the light flush across Eren's face. " _That_ was impulsive," he whispered.  
  
Eren smiled contently. “Did you know that Aries are also passionate?”  
  
“I believe it.”  
  
They both went back inside just as the first drop of rain fell to the ground.  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of canon-verse and modern-verse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real short, but it actually took a while. Appreciate me. Even though it's straight up wordvomit.
> 
> Prompt 2//Canonverse

_If you asked Eren what his favorite color was, he would probably say golden yellow. Not the ugly bright yellow that looked so falsely cheery it almost pissed him off, but the golden kind of yellow that was found in the rising sun and the light it spilled across the dewy grass. It was a color that grounded him, reminded him that even though existence was harsh and this world was cruel and he’d seen more of his friends die than he’d ever care to, ever should’ve_ had _to live through...the sun still shone on the earth every morning and birds still chirped and flew overheard, soaring with a freedom he could only ever dream about.  
  
Eren didn’t really have a least favorite color. But one he could live without was red. While it was a passionate color, it was also the bloodstains on his uniform. It was the overwhelming smell of iron and the regret of comrades lost. It was the stickiness that’d pooled around Jean’s head and was now currently dried and matted in his hair.  
  
It bothered Eren. He wanted to run his fingers through the tangles but didn’t want to risk messing up the bandages wrapped there, so he just held on tightly to his hand instead.  
  
He hated seeing him like this, ghostly pale and battered. He hated feeling useless. He just wanted Jean to open his eyes again so then Eren would know he was okay so as long as those warm brown eyes were staring at him with their usual affectionate disdain and the light would bring out those golden flecks in those amber pools and Eren would remember another reason why he called his favorite color gold.  
  
“You shouldn’t cry, Jaeger. It makes you uglier than usual.”  
  
Eren gasped, eyes flying up to Jean’s face. Jean grinned at him weakly. “My head is pounding like a mother-”  
  
“Jean!” Eren cut him of when he quite literally jumped on him before he even had time to sit up.  
  
Jean winced but returned the hold, tightening his arms around Eren as he nuzzled his hair and breathed in his scent.  
  
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m okay, I’m-”  
  
“A dumbass!” Eren pulled back to look up at Jean with a watery glare. “You should’ve told someone your gear was faulty.”  
  
“I didn’t _ know _my gear was faulty, jerkwad.”  
  
“That’s why you fucking check it beforehand when we’re not on a mission _ surrounded _by fucking titans-!”  
  
“But I’m alive, aren’t I?! And it’s what, a couple bruises...shit, maybe a rib, now that I think about it--I’m kinda having trouble breathing but that might just be the way you’re _ squeezing _me...and most likely a concussion. You’ve had worse, way worse.”_  
  
_“Are you forgetting, Horseface, which one of us can regenerate? It sure as hell ain’t you. That hit you took to your head could’ve killed you!” Eren shouted. His tears were only angry now._  
  
_“Eren, I really love you,” Jean told him, staring at him with both amusement and fondness._  
  
_“Wah? Huh? Great, the fall didn’t kill you, it just killed your last remaining brain cells, didn’t it?” Eren threw his arms up in exasperation._  
  
_“And yet I’m still smarter than you.”_  
  
_“Hey, fuck you-!”_  
  
_Jean appeased him with a kiss. “Maybe later, when my head doesn’t feel like it’s splitting open.”_  
  
_Eren huffed, rested his forehead against Jean’s. “Jean, I really hate you.”_  
  
“EREN!”  
  
Eren startled awake at the sound of a shout and a loud clap.  
  
He stared up at the sky confusedly, bleary eyes squinting at the sudden light. A figure loomed over him, blocking the harsh rays of the sun. He blinked once, twice until a face came into view. “Jean?”  
  
“Wake up, jerkface. While I’d love to skip next period, I got an English test I can’t miss.” He held out a hand to help Eren up. Eren didn’t take it, just continued to stare up at him.  
  
“You know, you look like...almost beautiful in the sunlight.”  
  
Jean choked on air, immediately turned on his heel. “That’s the last time we smoke a joint before class,” he muttered before walking away.  
  
Eren smiled after him.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, stay gold ponyboy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's a lovesick fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I heaped on the fluffs this chappy ／(^ x ^=)＼
> 
> Prompt 3//Music

There were few times Jean felt he could really lose himself.   
  
One being in his art. When he was in the zone and the images in his mind transferred flawlessly to whatever his preferred canvas was (and, he’ll be honest, nothing ever came out _flawlessly_ despite his best efforts) it was like he could block everything all out in the movement of his pencil (or paintbrush, or charcoal, or…) and if he could just get that one line right then the next wasn’t so hard and it’d go piece by piece until he was staring at the finished product and most (or half) of the time it wasn’t even so bad it made him want to pull his hair out. Sometimes it was even decent.  
  
But the tranquility that came with letting his creative instincts take over and letting his thoughts spill onto the page, it was like nothing else. As with any kind of self-expression, it was freeing.   
  
Another time he could lose himself was in music. He felt like this must be true for everybody. After all, there was nothing better than blocking out the world with the blaring of music delivered directly to your eardrums via headphones. And everybody needs to block out the world sometimes.  
  
If his parents were shouting at each other, he’d pop in his earbuds and turn up the music. If there was a crying baby on the bus, earbuds. If his peers or teachers wouldn’t shut up, earbuds. If his own thoughts wouldn’t stop screaming at him, earbuds worked every time.  
  
Removing outside noise was only half of it. If you wanted to fully immerse yourself, you had to actually listen to the music. Like Jean, you had to sit back and close your eyes and ride on the sound waves and match your heart to the beat of the drums and appreciate the melodies and the harmonies and the what-have-you-ies. Just, drown yourself in it. Because there’s a difference between hearing and listening.  
  
Most of all though, Jean could _always_ lose himself in Eren.  
  
And it’s not meant to sound worrying or crude, it’s just the truth. And it made sense because Eren was everything Jean loved, art and music included.  
  
When Eren was underneath him, whimpering and writhing and panting out words only meant for him, it sent fire coursing through his veins (and that was hella cliche, but it was true). It made him feel like he was special, because _Eren_ was special and Eren was precious to him and those moans he made were the best melody Jean’s ever had the pleasure of listening to.   
  
The moans Eren could draw from Jean himself had to be the perfect example of harmonization; their cries of passion intermixed and gave way to a rhythmic tune. And, if Jean wanted to get real explicit, the rustling of the sheets; the banging of the headboard; the gradual increase of moans and groans (and the occasional animalistic grunts) all melded together to create the perfect symphony--an exquisite crescendo that ended in a thrilling climax and died out with a peaceful hush.  
  
The way Eren looked at him afterwards--all blown pupils and messy hair, with love bites marring his sweat slicked skin...that was art. In fact, Jean would venture to say it was a masterpiece.  
  
Eren would curl up to him and Jean would bask himself in his warmth and his familiar scent and nothing else except for Eren--except for them, _together_ mattered. And nothing else _would_ ever matter as long as they were together. It was only the two of them here, floating away.  
  
“You know, it’s real creepy when I wake up to find you staring at me,” Eren murmured, sleepiness still thick in his voice.  
  
“It’s only ‘cause you were doing that godawful snoring thing. I was debating whether or not to kick you out of bed,” Jean countered (even though it was a lie and Jean didn’t care if he snored anyway because hell, even _that_ was soothing to listen to--ya know, except for when he was actually tired and not in a very sentimental mood, then it was just annoying…)  
  
Eren rolled his eyes, turned to bury his face in a pillow. “At least I don’t neigh in my sleep.”  
  
“Are you implying that I _do_?”   
  
“Yes. Now go eat a sugar cube or something and let me go back to sleep.”  
  
“After you just insulted me like that?” Jean scoffed, only partially teasing, “no way.”  
  
“Wha-what are you doing?” Eren asked as Jean moved towards him with a predatory look. “Jean? Jean!” Eren squeaked when Jean started tickling his bare sides, just how he absolutely hates. He squirmed underneath Jean, whines turning to laughter as he was subjected to relentless tickles. “You...k-know I’m...t-ticklish...stop! J-Jean…” He struggled to push the taller boy off.  
  
“Say the magic words,” Jean demanded.  
  
“Y-your an ungodly horse bastard? N-no, no, I’m sorry, not there!”  
  
“Then say the _right_ words.”  
  
“At least you have a horse cock?”  
  
Jean huffed, retreated and flopped over onto his back. “Just forget it. You’re insufferable.”  
  
Eren smiled, crawled over to drape himself over Jean’s chest. He pecked his lips. “I love you.”  
  
Jean blinked in confusion. “I thought the magic words were ‘Jean, you’re a sex god.'"  
  
Eren burst out laughing, and his warm boyish giggles were music.  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, Jean's a nerd and I love him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's blue and Jean's a caring boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late and it also got really heavy, so enjoy suffering--but also enjoy the fluff.
> 
> Prompt 4//Monster(s)

When Eren was younger he frequently had nightmares.  
  
They were always the same, and upon awakening, he could always vividly recall them. However, as he grew older and the nightmares ceased, his memories of them became fuzzy. The only thing he remembers, and probably always will, are the monsters.  
  
Because nobody could forget such terrifying creatures. They towered over him, taller than even his dad who’d always seemed so tall to him as a child; no, these monsters were taller than some skyscrapers he’s seen. They had the most horrifying faces--human like, but grossly disfigured and eerily apathetic. And perhaps the most bone chilling thing was what they _did_.   
  
These giant humanoid monsters would _eat_ people. They’d swallow them whole, or crunch them in half, or squeeze them so hard their bones would break and their eyes would pop out from their head and they'd leak a vivid crimson.  
  
Eren can’t say for certain, but he’s sure some of his dreams ended with him just about to get eaten by one of those things. Preparing to be swallowed, he’d flail helplessly around in the ruthless giant’s grip, and then somehow always wake up just before he was dropped into that black hole it had for a mouth.   
  
He was relieved that the nightmares stopped when he reached a certain age. They were a nuisance, always disturbing his sleep and making his parents worry. He didn’t know what caused them in the first place; why his mind conjured up cannibalistic giants and not monsters from the movies his dad would secretly let him watch (despite his mother’s objections) or the myths that most kids feared like the boogeyman or vampires or the generic monster lurking under the bed.  
  
He figured he was just a weird kid (and probably still is), and never gave much thought to it again.  
  
As he got older, he’d occasionally still see monsters. Though these weren’t the ones from his nightmares.   
  
They were just as frightening--perhaps even more so.  
  
They were invisible, but never inaudible.  
  
They shouted at him--cruel, nasty things you’d never even entertain the thought of saying to another person (if your mother raised you right, that is) and they were just as dangerous as the ones from his nightmares.  
  
They accused him that he wasn’t good enough, and that he never would be. That’s why his mother died and his father abandoned him and the only family he had left were his friends--who’d probably end up leaving him too.  
  
They pointed out every flaw; exposed his insecurities until he was stripped to the bone and made sure he’d never forget them.  
  
They pinned him down, fed him dark thoughts and tried with all their might to keep him under their clutches.   
  
And even if he found a way to escape, they would always pull him back. It was inevitable; they would _never_ vanish--in fact, most of the time, they lingered right at the back of his mind.  
  
They cried when he didn’t pay enough attention to them. He could never ignore them. They screamed until he wanted to beat his own brains out ‘cause he couldn’t stand the racket.   
  
They made him think that it was fine sometimes. That it was perfectly normal for their frigid embrace to be calming. That it was normal to relish in the pain they left in their wake. That it was easier to not fight them--never fight them because they were his true friends and they’d never leave. They made him think that though the dark was harsh and never ending, there would always be solace in solitude; just as there would always be beauty in suffering.   
  
But while there was never a way to defeat them entirely, there _were_ ways to push them back. It was a battle, everyday; an ongoing battle.   
  
Sometimes, Eren didn’t even have to fight them alone. It always made it easier, made the burden less to bear. If he was lucky, it even silenced them for a while.  
  
“Eren.”   
  
He turned to look at Jean who had just paused in the retelling of his day (Eren was actually quite interested to know what happened after Connie put a handful of thumbtacks on Mr. Shadis’ chair) “Hmm?”  
  
“You know I love you, right?”  
  
He furrowed his brows, wondering why Jean was being uncharacteristically mushy. “Of course.”  
  
“And you know I’ll always be here for you. You can rely on me for anything...I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me or if you feel like it’s something mundane. You can _always_ come to me-”  
  
“Jean, stop. I’m gonna puke if you don’t and you probably won’t like that since your face isn’t even three inches from mine.”  
  
“I’m just saying, I’ll always be here for you. And, I don’t know...sometimes, I feel helpless. Like maybe there’s something more I could-”  
  
“No, stop. This is enough--you being here, holding me,” Eren told him. Because it was enough. When he got so bad that he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, Jean was always there to check on him. He didn’t try to force him up (unlike Mikasa), he didn’t try to comfort him with futile words about a better future and a new tomorrow (unlike Armin), and he didn’t disregard his feelings (unlike Levi).  
  
And it’s not like his friends meant him any harm. Mikasa thought that by pretending things were normal, they’d eventually come to be. But Eren _wasn’t_ normal. He couldn’t piece himself together right and sometimes all the falling pieces made him unable to function properly. He couldn’t deal with all the stares--whether they were directed his way or not; whether they were staring at the cracks and empty spaces or looking right through him, he just couldn’t deal with people when he was like this. He couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t breathe.   
  
Armin’s gently spoken words of “it gets better” probably have some merit. But Eren can’t bring himself to believe in those words when he’s so down that everything seems like it’ll _never_ get better (and even if they do, that’s great, but this is _now_ and it sucks and sometimes he aches down to his fucking soul) and talks of such things are mere uncertainties at best--empty wishes at worst.  
  
Levi never ignored his feelings out of malice, Eren knew the older man just didn’t understand how someone like him--young and unrestrained with his whole life ahead of him--could be reduced to such a sorry state. Surely teen angst couldn’t be so bad. No worse than real life. Life is shitty and the faster you come to accept it, the faster you might even be able to understand it. The happier you’ll be. As his guardian and close friend, of course Eren’s pain made him hurt too. But there was only so much Levi could do that didn’t involve him dredging up his own demons.   
  
Jean’s brand of comfort was Eren’s favorite. He never forced him to talk about things he didn’t want to; understood that sometimes Eren _couldn’t_ much talk. He opened up the blinds or turned on the TV and told Eren all about his day and the stupid things their friends had done and the bogus English paper he had to write for insulting Shadis’ toupee. Anything, everything, random shit that they usually talked about on the days when Eren was actually in the land of the living and his smile reached his eyes and they didn’t water every other second and he and Jean bickered back and forth and played pranks on Connie together and…  
  
Basically, Jean treated him the same as he did when he wasn’t in a ‘mood’. He didn’t walk on eggshells or get frustrated. He always seemed to know when Eren couldn’t find the courage to say he was lonely, and he cuddled him extra close for it. He also knew when to back off; when Eren said “Leave me alone” in _that_ way, the kind of way that said “I’m feeling suffocated and I need time to clear my head.” But he _never_ listened to the “I’m feeling broken and I deserve to be alone even though it’s painful” way--because that way was vicious and stupid and deserved no respect. (They could really only be told apart by the lilt in Eren’s voice and minor changes in tone--luckily, Jean had a practiced ear.)   
  
Eren did sometimes feel like Jean deserved better. Like Jean could definitely _do_ better and was just another person Eren wasn’t good enough for, like he was just another person to disappoint. But Jean always reassured him otherwise.  
  
Always made sure to remind him that he found stars in Eren’s eyes, warmth in his touch, and love in his embrace (“and the occasional headache in your overall godawful personality.” “Shut your fuck up, horse bastard.”)  
  
“You’re the best monster slayer, Jean.”  
  
Jean’s lips twitched in amusement. “What does that mean?”  
  
Eren moved to rest his head on Jean’s chest, listening to the thump of his heart. Jean combed his fingers through his hair and Eren sighed in contentment. “Nothing. It means nothing.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't tell if this was all entirely coherent; it's 6 am and I haven't slept a wink.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren regrets saying cheer-leading isn't a real sport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got silly. I'm not even sorry. Enjoy some Eren and Jean in cheerleading uniforms °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°  
> (Also I combined two prompts because I'm behind. Sue me.)
> 
> Prompts 5&6//Similarities and differences+Sports

Jean wasn’t one to rush headfirst into things, unlike Eren.  
  
While they shared the same determination--the same headstrong nature--and often turned things into a competition, Jean still happened to have just a modicum of more self control than Eren.  
  
Eren takes action before thinking sometimes--and Jean seriously thinks that it’s partly because he’s intentionally reckless (back in their frenemy days he even nicknamed him ‘suicidal bastard’) Eren is also quick to take offense. _That’s_ gotten them--and probably will continue to do so-into many fights. They both just had to be argumentative bastards with unyielding pride.  
  
Though while prideful, Eren never backed down, even if it came at the expense of said pride. Because in the long run, wasn’t that better? He’d rather swallow his pride than be a coward. And so that’s how he found himself here…  
  
“Damn, Eren! Werk it, girl!” Connie catcalled.  
  
Eren turned around to sneer and flip him the middle finger.  
  
Jean chuckled under his breath (lest Eren hear and give him shit for it).  
  
“Honestly, I’m almost like sexually confused right now. Why does that outfit fit him so well?” Connie mused.  
  
“It’s ‘cause he has girly hips,” Jean said, eyes trekking Eren’s movements as he walked across the field with Historia. They stopped to talk to the gaggle of other cheerleaders. They all crowded around Eren--Jean could hear the squeals from his spot on the bleachers, apparently they all thought he was cute and ‘totally brave’ for doing this. Jean rolled his eyes, _please the idiot just lost a bet is all_.  
  
“Am I late? Did I miss it?! Holy hell, I didn’t think he’d actually do it!” Ymir threw herself into the empty spot on the metal bleachers besides Sasha who was busy stuffing her face with Doritos.  
  
“You came just in time for the start of practice,” Armin informed her. “I think they’re about to practice their high kicks.”  
  
“Please tell me you’ve already taken pictures of this and uploaded them to every social media site known to man.” Ymir was rubbing her greedy little hands together in excitement. “This is good shit.”  
  
“Eren did it himself, he took a selfie with Historia and captioned it ‘suck my perky cheerleader ass, Ymir’,” Jean told her.  
  
“How rude. Well, this is what he gets for insisting that cheerleading isn't a real sport. He nearly made ‘Stori cry, ya know-”  
  
Armin tried to interject, “Ymir, that’s just ‘cause she had gotten mascara in her eye-”  
  
Ymir ignored him, “and I hope he falls off the top of the pyramid or something and breaks his arm!” She shouted, stamping her foot.  
  
“ _Hey_ ,” Jean warned.  
  
“I mean, I wouldn’t go so far as to say cheerleadings not a real sport, but have you _seen_ football players on a rampage? Takin' down dudes built like motherfuckin’ brick houses. Now _that’s_ a sport-”  
  
“Connie, no one gives a shit about football. Who wants to watch a bunch of meat-sacks toss a ball around? Wouldn’t you rather watch pretty girls bounce around and contort themselves into impossible positions. And when they cheer ‘go team, go team’ and wave their little pompoms…” Ymir sighed dreamily, “isn’t it just the cutest thing ever.”  
  
Sasha snickered. “You’re so gay.”  
  
“Okay, I’m kinda getting the uncomfortable feeling that you make Historia wear her cheerleading uniform when you get down and like make up your own personal cheers and shit,” Connie said.  
  
Jean wouldn’t blame Ymir if she did ‘cause at the moment he couldn’t even look at Eren directly for fear of popping a boner in front of his friends (He knew Ymir would never let him live it down). That uniform barely covered Eren’s ass and left his whole midriff exposed, also those long golden legs of his were downright tantalizing (and also kinda made him want to laugh ‘cause when Connie first saw him he had went “wow, Eren, did you shave your legs for this? That’s dedication, man," and Jean wanted so badly to tell him all about how Eren _always_ shaves (in Eren’s defense, he just likes the comfort of silky smooth skin and _damn_ does Jean appreciate it too, especially when those silky legs are wrapped around him as…) Jean shifted uncomfortably, _right not the time or place._  
  
“Not _all_ the time.” Ymir made a show of rolling her eyes. “But like, you probably don’t wanna know where those pompoms have been…”  
  
A loud cheer from across the field cut off Sasha’s gasp of, “wouldn’t that hurt?”  
  
“Oh great, here comes the football goons,” Ymir muttered.  
  
The football team shared the field with the cheerleaders on practice days.  
  
“Hey, Reiner!” Connie shouted until Reiner--Shig’ High’s renown quarterback and close childhood friend--took notice of him. “Eat dick!”  
  
Reiner flipped him off with both middle fingers until his teammate and best friend, Bertolt, slapped his shoulder and reminded him that the coach was watching.  
  
“Holy shit, Eren just broke his arm!” Ymir shouted.  
  
“What? Huh?” Jean’s gaze hurriedly snapped back to the cheerleaders where he found Eren, perfectly intact, and copying Historia who was waving her pompoms back and forth excitedly with a genuine and cheerful smile. Eren’s smile looked more plastered on and while it was friendly enough, his eyes _screamed_ murder. Or “help me”. Jean couldn’t be sure. Figured it was maybe both.  
  
“Ymir, you rude ass bitch.”  
  
“Haha. Stay on your toes, ponyboy.”  
  
“So many people on Instagram are saying how cute Eren looks,” Sasha gushed as she shoved her phone in Ymir’s face, “lookit, you made him a star.”  
  
“Holy fuck,” Ymir snickered. “ _I’d tap that. Who is she? No homo...but like all da homo? Let me get a hit at that. Bend over and let me dive my tongue between--_ okay, that one got real graphic…”  
  
“Ymir, what the hell are you going on about?”  
  
“The comments, of course.”  
  
“Wha?” Jean hurriedly snatched the phone outta Ymir’s hands and his eyes narrowed at what he saw. There were tons of comments under the selfie Eren posted. Most of them were positive; a lot of girls gushing over how cute he was, lots of heart emojis, some were just focusing on Historia or the upcoming game, some read a bit too enthusiastic for Jean’s tastes ‘ _like omg he could totally bang me anytime I love a guy who’s confident in his sexuality…’_ Yeah confident that he’s hella fuckin’ gay (alright, bi, but Jean thinks it’d be easier to just say Jeansexual ‘cause he was the hottest fuck Eren was ever gonna get, right? Right-- _haha shut up fragile ego_ ).  
  
Oh but some of these comments were downright disgusting. And he’s not talking about the occasional ‘ _fag’_ or ‘ _WTF is a dude wearing a dress for im personly ofended!!1!’_ (even though those were pretty sickening) No, he’s talking about the one’s that were just so repulsively graphic in what they wanted to do to his boyfriend. So many strangers lusting after him, making comments like _i wanna stick my hard d--- up your tight little h--- and p---- you into oblivion and f--- you with my c--_. Fuck, what kind of assholes was he being forced to go to school with? Horrible filthy ones, that’s what…  
  
“Ponyboy’s about to explode,” Ymir announced.  
  
“He’s not the only one,” Connie said. He pointed across the field where both the cheerleaders and football players were crowding around Eren and some beefy jock as they practically shouted in each other’s face.  
  
“Oh, Eren,” Armin sighed and resisted the urge to face-palm.  
  
“Whoa, what happened while I was opening this chocolate bar?” Sasha murmured.  
  
Jean made a move to get up but Ymir clutched at his arm. “Let him fight this one on his own.”  
  
Jean scoffed, “fuck you. You just want a free show.”  
  
“...what the fuck does it matter to you if I’m wearing I’m skirt? And you think just ‘cause I am you can call me a fag, think you can slap my ass and call me your pretty princess?! I ain’t no princess, asshole! I-” Eren was shouting so hard he was nearly red in the face. The cheerleading team stood behind him, throwing dirty looks at the football players in support.  
  
Most of the football players were getting uncomfortable, didn’t want to be made out to be assholes just ‘cause one guy couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Reiner especially wanted to intervene ‘cause Eren was his friend, but the looks of his teammates said they probably wouldn’t appreciate it. The dude challenging Eren was a real douche (who just so happened to be the coach’s nephew), and nobody wanted any trouble.  
  
“You sure do look like one in that skirt, fag. I couldn’t even tell you weren’t a chick at first, all I saw was that delectable ass…”  
  
Alright, _now_ Jean was going to punch somebody.  
  
“ _What the fuck did you just say?!”_ Eren was apparently going to beat him too it though, he lunged forward at the sneering jock but was held back last minute by a couple of cheerleaders.  
  
“Oh wow, you really think I’m scared of a fucking pansy in a skirt?”  
  
“I think you fucking _should_ be, dickweed! I’ll kick your ass, make you eat dirt, and then axe kick your fucking skull open all while wearing this goddamn skirt! And I’ll look damn good doing it too!” Eren’s glare was murderous. The cheerleaders were getting nervous, the football players were getting annoyed, Sasha was eating yet another Snickers bar--tension could be cut with a knife.  
  
“Hey, Jean? Wanna be a hero?” Ymir whispered inconspicuously.  
  
“What?” Jean hissed.  
  
Ymir shoved a duffel bag into his arms. “Change. And quickly.”  
  
“Oh God, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Jean muttered to himself not two minutes later as he trekked down the field, stopped at the scene where Eren was still being held back by like three different cheerleaders and that trash of a human being was spewing shit about how “no cross-dressing fag has a _chance_ ” at beating him.  
  
_Yeah, whatever_. “So a pansy in a skirt has no chance of taking you on, right? Well how about _two_ pansies?” Jean said as he quite sassily put his hands on his skirt clad hips.  
  
There were collective gasps all around,  
  
“Ohmagawd…”  
  
“Jean, what the fuck?”  
  
“Kirschtein? You a fag too? Shoulda known.”  
  
“Hahahah...” Reiner was laughing his ass off.  
  
“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Eren asked in disbelief as he looked Jean up and down, taking in the blue and white cheerleading uniform that was identical to his. Jean had even put a fucking blue bow in his hair.  
  
“Honestly? I have no idea. All I know is that if someone wants to mess with you, they’re gonna have to-”  
  
“What, go through you? I don’t need you to protect-”  
  
“ _No_ , they’re gonna have to go through _both_ of us and get their ass doubly whooped,” Jean stated with an expression so serious it made Reiner crack up in laughter again.  
  
“Bro, I can’t take you seriously when you’re dressed like that!”  
  
“Reiner, stand up!” Bertolt hissed at the burly blond who was literally rolling around on the ground laughing.  
  
“N-no, I can’t! I-it’s too fu..uh..nny!”  
  
The douchebag jock stared at Reiner in disgust. “Ugh. What the fuck? Has everyone gone insane? And _you_!” He sneered and pointed a finger at Jean, “I’ll have _so_ much fun kicking your ass into the ground that-”  
  
He was suddenly cut off with a vicious right hook to the face. He finally shut up, and his body went slack as he hit the ground.  
  
Everyone stared at Bertolt in shock.  
  
“Holy shit, dude, you just knocked him out!”  
  
“Is he dead?! Is that guy _dead_?!” Some cheerleader screeched.  
  
“BOOOOO!” Connie shouted from his spot at the bleachers. Ymir made Sasha and Armin participate in a victory dance.  
  
Bertolt rubbed the back of neck sheepishly as he took in everyone staring at him. “Sorry, I uh got pissed off and...he just...he wouldn’t shut up, okay!”  
  
“Well that was anticlimactic,” Historia murmured. “Hey, Jean, wanna learn how to do a herkie?”  
  
“Only if Eren does it with me,” Jean said, smirking at his boyfriend.  
  
Eren rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling as he took Jean’s hand. “Sure, why not.”  
  
Ymir posted a picture of Eren and Jean on Instagram, wearing matching cheerleading uniforms and stupidly happy expressions, captioned ‘ _two dorks in skirts_.’  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren's family is insane. Jean regrets living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I never finished Erejean week...This one last prompt had been sitting in my docs for a while tho...
> 
> Can't even remember the prompt but I think it was...
> 
> Prompt 6//Meet the parents (family?)

One of Jean’s favorite pastimes was making out with Eren (and okay, he’ll admit _most_ of his favorite pastimes had to do with Eren). Sometimes it was nice to take it slow, slowly grinding against each other as they kissed languidly (or the opposite, which is what they were doing now; heatedly kissing and rutting against each other like the two horny teenagers they happen to be).  
  
“Fuck, Eren,” Jean groaned, started placing kisses down Eren’s neck as Eren ran his hands up his back, pushing up the fabric of his shirt. Jean sat up to remove said shirt and then he was back on top of Eren, pressing him back into the couch with a frenzied kiss.  
  
The sound of the front door slamming open startled them so much that Jean nearly fell off the couch.   
  
“Oh no, don’t mind me. By all means, continue.”  
  
Jean whipped his head around so fast to stare at Levi in horror that he almost fell off the couch _again_. Eren huffed and handed him his shirt, clearly not impressed.  
  
“I thought you were gonna be out late,” Eren said to Levi.  
  
“Plans change, brat. I really hope you weren’t about to fuck on the couch, I would’ve had to burn it. And then kill you.” Levi shrugged off his jacket, hung it on the coat rack, kicked off his boots and placed them meticulously in the designated shoe rack placed near the entrance. He stalked into the kitchen area that was connected to the living room, separated only by a long bar and returned with a bottle of beer.  
  
He plopped down on the loveseat that was to the side of the couch where Eren and Jean sat. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swig of his beer.  
  
Jean shifted uncomfortably under his accessing stare. Levi usually had a harsh glare--that was just his resting bitch face at work, but Jean could’ve sworn there was something unusually sharp today in his steely grey eyes.  
  
He’d never felt this uncomfortable around the older man before, but then again, before, Jean was just Eren’s friend and not his _boyfriend_.  
  
Thankfully the door opening again saved Jean from whatever awkward conversation awaited. Mikasa and Armin walked inside the apartment, chatting loudly and bringing life back to the tensely silent room.  
  
“‘Kasa, didn’t you say you were studying at Armin’s?” Eren asked.  
  
“Ah, Grandpa kicked us out ‘cause it was his turn to host poker night with his buds,” Armin explained.  
  
“I think it’s mostly because that guy you practically wiped clean last time was gonna be there, and he’s been known to hold a grudge,” Mikasa told Armin.  
  
“No shit? How much ya squeeze outta him?” Levi asked.  
  
Armin flushed, rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “‘Bout a grand.”  
  
“Holy shit,” Jean snickered.  
  
“So, I was gonna make dinner tonight. How does Beef Stroganoff sound?” Mikasa said.  
  
“Sounds great. You make the best after all,” Armin told her.  
  
“I wouldn’t say best-”  
  
“Not all of us can be renowned chefs, Levi.”  
  
“Are you staying for dinner, Jean?” Mikasa asked. He was thrown back by the sudden edge in her gaze. She was also smiling softly at him--which just proved to Jean that something was definitely off seeing as she was usually just about as stoic as her cousin.  
  
“Um…” Jean murmured.  
  
Eren nudged him in the side. “That wasn't a question, ya know. She’s telling you.”  
  
Mikasa walked into the kitchen without awaiting Jean’s reply. Armin followed, asking if she needed any help.  
  
Now was it just Jean, or did the temperature of the room just seem to drop about 50 degrees?  
  
Jean looked at Levi and gulped. The guy was smirking, _nothing_ good ever came from Levi smirking.   
  
He patted the spot next to him on the sofa and beckoned Eren over with a call of his name.  
  
Eren sighed, plopped down gracelessly next to him. Levi threw an arm over his shoulder and fixed Jean with a _look_. A look that told him to be afraid, very afraid. “So...what are your intentions with my son?” Levi asked.  
  
Jean tried not to choke on his own spit. He blinked slowly. His mind was totally blanking on him, _oh god why?  
  
_ Eren groaned in indignation. He shoved Levi’s arm off him. “Levi, fuck off, you Hobbit fuck.”  
  
Levi scowled and pinched Eren’s cheek as the younger boy pouted and tried to swat his hand away. “What was that, brat?”  
  
“Hey, Levi, can you back off Eren? I need him to help me...make bread,” Mikasa said as she leaned over the bar counter, wearing an amused expression and a red apron.  
  
Levi put his hands up in surrender. Eren shot a grateful look at Mikasa.  
  
And then there were two. Jean stared after Eren in longing, _take me with you_.  
  
“So, Jean. I was serious. What are your intentions with Eren?”  
  
“Uh he’s my...boyfriend-”  
  
“Well with the way you were mauling him on my couch, I would certainly hope so,” Levi deadpanned.  
  
“And I...uh...I d-don’t want to hurt him, definitely don’t wanna do _that_ um…” Jean was internally pleading for death. Or at least the power of teleportation so he could opt out of this painful experience.  
  
“Your ass would be dead before you tried, so don’t worry. Oh, and it would probably be Mikasa who gets to you first, and just so you know, she likely won’t leave anything behind but your charred remains.”  
  
Jean’s eyes widened. “...” What could he say to that, honestly?  
  
Levi sighed, set his beer down on the coffee table. “Look, Ponyboy, I’m gonna be serious here for a moment…”  
  
_God help me,_ Jean thought.  
  
“When I took Eren and Mikasa in, they were these...wounded kids that fate had dealt a shit hand. And they were broken. Mikasa hid it better, you know Mika. And Eren was a sniveling little brat with watery too-big eyes and anger issues. Over these past few years, I’ve seen them grow and I’ve seen them...piece themselves together. And it’s not like their fully intact--no one past a certain age is ya know but...what I’m trying to say is that I’ve seen that boy at his worst, and...I don’t ever want to see him like that again. So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never hurt him, or break his heart or whatever shit. You’re the first serious relationship he’s been in and-”  
  
“Yeah, understood. I would never hurt him. I...I love him, ya know,” Jean stated, mentally relieved his voice didn’t crack embarrassingly or that he didn’t stutter over his words (much). He was still blushing though as he said it anyway.  
  
Levi chuckled lightly, held a hand up to his mouth to not so inconspicuously hide it.  
  
Jean resisted the urge to scowl. “May I ask why you’re laughing?”  
  
“‘Cause your face is so red, kid, you look like a fucking lobster.”  
  
Jean bristled, “You know what-!”  
  
“Jean! Let’s go hang out in my room until dinner’s ready, okay?” Eren, his loving saving grace, thankfully chose to interrupt at that moment.   
  
“You better keep the door open!” Levi called after them.  
  
“Fuck. Off!” Eren shouted back.  
  
_X  
  
_ Jean didn’t really think anything could’ve been worse than Levi grilling him, but he was wrong. So wrong.  
  
He’d been friends with Mikasa and Armin for years, as long as he’s known Eren--and that’s going on what...eight years?--and he’s never felt so intimidated in their presence before.  
  
Silverware scraped against plates, Eren gulped his water obnoxiously loud, Armin stared at Jean with calculating eyes, Mikasa stabbed her food viciously while never once looking away from him. He was so uncomfortable he could barely force the food down his throat.  
  
“So, Jean. Any plans for college? What do you want to do in life?” Levi asked.  
  
“Um, I’m only a sophomore. I think I have plenty of time to think about that,” Jean said and knew immediately by the stares he received that it was the wrong answer.  
  
“It’s never too early to think about college,” Armin said.   
  
_Goddamit,_ Jean thought, _how was_ Armin-- _sweet timid little Armin--able to intimidate him?  
  
_ “What the kid said,” Levi seconded.  
  
“I’m interested in maybe going to an art school. What, is _that_ a better answer?” Jean snapped.  
  
“No. How do you expect to find a well paying job in-”  
  
“Hey!” Jean sprung up from his seat. _Okay_ now _this was going too far..._  
  
“Calm down, Jean, I’m just messing with you,” Armin finished.  
  
Jean sat back down with a huff. Next to him he could see Eren shaking with controlled laughter. He discreetly stomped on his foot.  
  
“Are you affiliated with any gangs, Jean?” Mikasa asked.  
  
“ _What_? No! Mikasa, you’ve known me since elementary school. You really think I’m capable of something like that?”  
  
“I think that it’s a distinct possibility seeing as you can never truly know a person. That being said, how do I know that _you’re_ serious about Eren? What happened about that crush you used to have on me? Purely for my looks and ‘pretty hair’; we didn’t even have anything in common! And yet, you followed me around like a lost puppy. Are you really so wishy washy and shallow-”  
  
“That was in _fifth grade_!” Jean interjected.  
  
“Alright, calm down. No need to be so aggressive,” Mikasa said. Her smirk was hidden behind her glass of water.  
  
Jean was close to exploding.  
  
“Jean, do you happen to do any drugs?” Levi asked.   
  
Eren rolled his eyes. “Levi, you’ve literally smoked with us before.”  
  
“Look I just wanna make sure he isn’t doing any nose candy.”  
  
“Oh god.” Eren dramatically thumped his head on the table.  
  
“You don’t have a criminal record, do you?” Armin questioned.  
  
“No, Armin, I don’t fucking-”  
  
“And you’re not engaging in unprotected sex, are you?” Levi asked.  
  
“Of course not!” Jean stated.  
  
Levi raised an eyebrow. “But you _are_ having sex?”  
  
“Uh...um...I mean-”  
  
“What do your parents do for a living?” Mikasa asked.  
  
“You know that already-”  
  
“Do you have any pets? I really love cats and you strike me as a cat lover,” Armin said even though he fucking _knew_ that Jean had a three year old cat named Snuggles.  
  
“Oh my god, stop! Just fucking _stop_! Why the fuck are you guys even interrogating me, I’ve known you all for _years_! You know I’m not a fucking criminal or a delinquent or a cokehead or a bad _fucking_ influence...Fuck. I shouldn’t even _be_ this nervous, goddamn it!” Jean was breathing rapidly after his mini rant, he tugged at his hair in frustration.  
  
Eren was definitely laughing now. Mikasa and Armin joined in. Levi was howling with laughter, and to Jean, it was honestly a scary sight.  
  
“Fuck all of you,” Jean grumbled.  
  
“Horseface,” Eren paused to wipe a stray tear from his eye that musta formed from him laughing so hard, “you shouldn’t be so easy to fuck with.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah laugh at my expense. All you want. So...is this ‘dinner’ over? ‘Cause I should really be getting home,” Jean said.  
  
“Aw, why not spend the night? You can even sleep in Eren’s room! Though I feel like I should remind you that I have a gun and an impressive knife collection-”  
  
“Very funny-”  
  
“He’s not kidding, Jean,” Eren said, “fuck, you’re probably more protective of me than you are of Mikasa,” he told Levi.  
  
“Of course I am, brat. Mika _knows_ how to put somebody on their ass, _you_ on the other hand-”  
  
“Can handle myself just fine,” Eren finished for him.  
  
“Keep believing that.”  
  
Jean stood up. ‘I’m still leaving, so…”   
  
“I’ll walk you out,” Eren said.

Jean felt much better outside where the fresh air could calm his flushed cheeks.

“Don't be mad. They really like you, y’know.”

Jean huffed a little through his nose. “I'm not mad that your family's insane.” He pulled Eren over to him by his waist. “I'd put up with anything for you. Plus, they'll be my family too some day, huh?”

Eren groaned, buried his face in Jean’s neck to hide his stupid completely involuntary silly grin. “You're such a fucking dork.”

“I'm _your_ dork.”  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not proofread. srry.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is great, yo.


End file.
